<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>baby tell me when you're ready (i'm waiting) by evcndiaz</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488572">baby tell me when you're ready (i'm waiting)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/evcndiaz/pseuds/evcndiaz'>evcndiaz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(but not in a bad way don't worry), (no beta we die like my heart did watching last night's episode), Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Episode Tag: s04e05 Buck Begins, Literally picks up right after, M/M, Mild Angst, Post Buck Begins, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Romantic Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:49:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/evcndiaz/pseuds/evcndiaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the moment, Eddie is grace incarnate. In the moment, he is Ares on the battlefield, calm and measured, steady and sure. But when the moment passes—when Buck steps out of the truck, healthy and whole, if not entirely happy, when he ascends those stairs to meet with his parents—it's like all Eddie’s cords have been snapped, like all the fight is being drained from his veins, Hera sitting on Mount Olympus telling him to lay down his sword and come rest."</p><p>or; this fic is directly inspired by eddie's heart eyes in the last few minutes of Buck Begins</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>286</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>baby tell me when you're ready (i'm waiting)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, how about that episode last night, huh?</p><p>title from when you're ready by shawn mendes</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's only after everything calms down that he starts shaking.</p><p>He's used to it by now—the crash of overwhelming emotion that rocks him damn near off his feet every time something happens. He's used to it, but that doesn't make it any easier. Chris is at Abuela's tonight, not around to see his father shake apart like a leaf. All for the best, he knows. Eddie’s trying to be more open with his feelings, create an atmosphere of vulnerability with his son, but some things he needs to do on his own.</p><p>The shaking starts in his hands. Hands that took up position on that rope at Buck’s back, hands that came alongside Buck when he needed them the most.</p><p>What would have happened if they'd gotten there just a second too late? What would they have found?</p><p>Eddie makes it a habit not to think like that, <em> can't </em>think like that for his own sanity. There’s always a nightmare waiting to unfold when he lets his mind wander, so he lets himself move on. </p><p>They got to Buck, that's all that matters.</p><p>He pulls a beer from the fridge, drops down at his kitchen table and rests his forehead on the cool surface.</p><p>He's used to this too— the incessant replay, the home movie that only he can see where every moment, every action, every word rewinds and repeats over and over again. Eddie watches it all, everything from yesterday afternoon up until the point where they all went home after shift.  He watches himself watch everything unfold around him, dazed, as if it all happened to someone else. </p><p>He'd come so close to losing everything last night. Maybe that's why he's having such a hard time letting the panic and fear go. He'd come so close to losing Buck—not physically, of course; they were never going to let him go down alone, all of them or none of them is the deal—but if Buck hadn't been able to save Saleh, he would have lost him for good. He knows it like he knows his own name.</p><p>For two weeks, Buck has been spiraling, circling the drain of self-doubt, and worthlessness, and achingly deep loneliness. For two weeks, he's watched Buck withdraw into himself, watched those bright eyes grow dimmer and dimmer. Watched that mouth grow tighter and tighter, and he hasn't been able to do a damn thing about it. </p><p>Eddie's never been good at feeling helpless. He's never been the waiting room type, never been the one to sit this one out, son, let someone else handle it. He's a doer, always has been; a fixer when no one else can or will step up to the plate, and watching Buck suffer this week—for there really is no other word for it, it's suffering, plain and simple—has been like asking him to neglect the most crucial part of himself, asking him to bury the one thing that makes him Edmundo Diaz. </p><p>His hands ached with the need to crawl inside Buck and hammer away everything that was broken, to sew together everything that needed to be patched, and each time that ache threatened to overwhelm him, it was like being met with a wall every time. Even though Buck has been more open with him these last few weeks than he has ever been, coming to his house and simply letting himself find healing in Eddie’s home, it was very clear that what he was going through was something Eddie couldn't fix, and Eddie didn't even have the courage to do what he wanted to do which was to wrap Buck in his arms and hold him through it.</p><p>And so remained his hands at his sides, <em>useless useless useless</em> up until the point when he needed them the most. Up until Buck needed him the most.</p><p>Because that's what he does, right? That's what they do for each other. Show up at the last second, <em>what, you didn’t think I'd let you have fun all on your own, did you?</em></p><p>His hands are a love language of their own and they tell the story of his love far better than any sonnet he writes ever could. </p><p>Eddie raises his head and takes a sip of his beer, swishing the liquid around in his mouth before letting it glide down his throat. </p><p>His heart gallops in his chest. Always such a delayed reaction. When he was in the moment, he felt calm. Serene, even, because fighting fire, saving the day—this was something he could do. </p><p>Walk into the gates of hell for Buck? He could do that.</p><p>Hold onto that lifeline and pull his boy back from wherever he was falling? He could do that too.</p><p>In the moment, Eddie is grace incarnate. In the moment, he is Ares on the battlefield, calm and measured, steady and sure. But when the moment passes—when Buck steps out of the truck, healthy and whole, if not entirely happy, when he ascends those stairs to meet with his parents—it's like all Eddie’s cords have been snapped, like all the fight is being drained from his veins, Hera sitting on Mount Olympus telling him to lay down his sword and come rest.</p><p>He'd hurried through his shower, hurried out of the parking lot, pulled into a Target parking lot and tried to breathe for the first time in twenty-four hours.</p><p>He still feels like he hasn't quite caught his breath.</p><p>A key turns in the front door. The familiar sound of boots walking across the floor, the sound of a chair being pulled out beside him.</p><p>Buck sits down and takes his hand in both of his, wrapping long fingers around his, practically swallowing his hand whole.</p><p>"You're shaking," he says after a moment.</p><p>"Yeah." Eddie doesn't lift his head. "Happens."</p><p>"Hm." Buck doesn't let go. He doesn't say anything more either. Eddie feels the beer bottle slide through his fingers, condensation left dripping from his skin as Buck takes a sip.</p><p>"Can you look at me?" Buck finally asks. </p><p>Eddie looks up. Buck is already staring holes into him, eyes warm and soft in a way that shouldn't be reserved for him, but somehow is.</p><p>"I never got to thank you."</p><p>"You don't have to thank me," Eddie replies automatically. "It's our job, it's what we do." </p><p>But that's not what Buck is thanking him for and they both know it. Buck doesn't let go of his hand; he strokes the back with his thumb, tracing light circles that make Eddie want to do something stupid like run away. Or cry.</p><p>"You know," Buck says quietly, "I don't think I could have made it through their visit without you. You... you were everything these past two weeks."</p><p>"I didn't do anything."</p><p>"Yes, you did. You—” Buck cuts himself off with a laugh. It’s at that moment Eddie realizes Buck is wearing one of his hoodies. Buck continues, laying his previous train of thought to rest. "I've got a lot to learn about a lot of things, Eddie. I've got a lot to learn about... love. And the people who love me, the way they love me. I've got a lot to learn about accepting it."</p><p>The fact that he's talking about this is a victory alone. Eddie is so proud of him, his skin feels thin with the enormity of it all. He's sure his pride is bleeding from his pores. </p><p>"You'll figure it all out," he says. It's true even if it's not quite what he wants to say. Emotional come down is a bitch; he couldn't put the words together even if he wanted to.</p><p>Buck laughs, soft, his face reddening. "Yeah, I will. But I say all that because…” He takes a deep breath. “I say all that because I'm realizing some things about myself. And I'm realizing some things about you. And I'm realizing some things about us."</p><p>Of course Buck would be the first one to say it; of course he'd give voice to the thing they've been dancing around for almost a year now. </p><p>"I don't want you to run away." Buck whispers.</p><p>Eddie doesn't even realize he's tried to pull his hand away until Buck's fingers tighten. Not hard that he couldn’t break out of it, still so gentle even now, but enough to let him know that he doesn't want him to leave.</p><p>"What do you want then?" </p><p>Whatever he wants is his, doesn't Buck see that? How could he not?</p><p>Buck shrugs. "What I want is to love you, properly, the way you deserve to be loved. What I want is to be in Chris’s life for as long as I live. What I want is to hear you say you love me and believe it, to not doubt it for a single second."</p><p>The war of emotions flooding through Eddie's veins right now. Maybe this conversation is a battlefield of its own. Only instead of being Ares, he is the blood on the blade, the chest on the other end of the sword, carved open from top to bottom.</p><p>"But you're not ready yet," he finishes for Buck.</p><p>"I'm not ready yet,” Buck confirms. “But neither are you."</p><p>The words are delivered so kindly that Eddie almost misses the fact that they reach right inside him and wring him dry. He wants to flinch away from the truth of it, from the knowing. For a brief moment, he wants to go back in time to when Buck was some insecure, intimidated asshole and he was the newbie firefighter and there wasn't this much intimate knowledge permeating the air between them. For a brief moment, he wants that wall back between them so all his private, tender spots can be kept safe.</p><p>When he was seven, his parents used to force him to sit through Sunday School at Mass and listen to the teacher talk all about the impenetrable walls of Jericho and how all it took was an act of faith to knock them down. At the time, he'd thought it silly, in the way kids think the most profound things are found in animated movies and badgering their parents with incessant questions.</p><p>But there's truth to that now, he realizes, because it takes all his faith to sit in this chair, to look Buck in the eyes, to be seen in return, and to know that, whatever Buck sees he's not going to run away. </p><p>It takes faith to be known, to knock against his walls until they're nothing but dusty piles of rubble and ivory.</p><p>He doesn't deny Buck’s statement, doesn't deny the truth of everything Buck sees.</p><p>There's no denying a reflection in a mirror, anyway.</p><p>"Tell me what you want, Buck."</p><p>Buck sighs. He brings Eddie's hand up to his mouth, kisses every knuckle. Belatedly, Eddie realized that at some point he stopped shaking. He only notices because he's started again, and this time, it has nothing to do with fear. </p><p>"I want to know that we're a sure thing. And that when—" he punctuates this statement with another kiss, this time to the palm of Eddie’s hand, "—we come together, we make it last forever. That's what I want. But we’re not ready"</p><p>Buck sets his hand down just as gently as picked it up and sits back in his chair.</p><p>Inexplicably, Eddie feels his throat tighten. He could flip through every single page in the dictionary and still not be able to find a word to describe how he's feeling. </p><p>“No. We’re not.” His voice is hoarse when he says, "But I'll be here. For when we are."</p><p>Buck shrugs again. "I know." Easy, like he’s never doubted it. That, of all the things he struggles with, of all his disbelief in the people he loves, that is the one thing he is sure of—Eddie's unwavering, steadying presence in his life. His love for him, no matter what form it takes.</p><p>"I have a date," he says randomly. Buck looks at him curiously. "The teacher from Christopher's school. Ana."</p><p>He watches Buck mouth the name, feel the weight of it on his tongue. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath until Buck nods, but he catches it again when Buck says, "I do too. Not with Ana, of course, but. Another firefighter. Someone from the 221."</p><p>Eddie considers that for a moment. This feels like a break-up, only there’s nothing to break. If anything, it’s the promise of more, the delaying of the inevitable so that they know for sure they won’t break themselves apart when it is time. And yet, the thought of this pseudo-loss of this sits wrongly in his stomach. Eddie considers the idea of someone putting their hands on Buck’s waist, their mouth on Buck’s neck. It doesn’t hurt but it’s not pleasant either. </p><p>He stares out the window. Rain spatters and rolls down the windowpane.</p><p>“Why does this feel like this?” he wonders aloud.</p><p>It’s so vague, hardly even a question, but Buck seems to understand. Of course he understands.</p><p>“Hey.” Buck’s voice, the earnestness in it, draws Eddie’s eyes back to his face. “We’ll get there. You and me are always going to be<em> you and me </em>. We’re a team, and I’m not going anywhere, Eds. We’re not done yet. We’re just…”</p><p>Buck runs out of words, but that’s okay, he doesn’t need to finish. Eddie gets it anyway.</p><p>“I love you,” he says, because it’s true, in all the ways. And because Buck needs to hear it, and because he needs to say it before he loses his nerve.</p><p>Buck’s face does something complicated. “I love you too.”</p><p>Buck rises to his feet. He stretches, all the knobs and joints in his body popping. In his peripheral vision, Eddie can see the cloth of his hoodie ride up, the jut of Buck’s hips on display. The pang of that not-quite-loss hits him all over again, but it’s duller this time.</p><p>Buck is right. They’ll always be a team, always be <em> them </em>, but if they’re going to be more, they both need to be a lot healthier than they are, a lot stronger in themselves before they tie themselves to one another. Because it’s not just going to be them in the mix either; it’s going to be Chris, it’s going to be their families, it’s going to be the team at the fire station who will depend on them being a cohesive unit. They need to discover who they are before they become a pair, because once they fuse together, there’s no going back. Only forward, come what may.</p><p>Not yet, but eventually.</p><p>Buck jingles his keys in his pocket. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”</p><p>Eddie looks up at that beautiful face and those gorgeous eyes. He’s had it all wrong, he’s not <em> losing </em>this at all, he’s gaining it. Maybe not today, but some day. There’s a promise in Buck’s eyes, one he knows is reflected in his own, and the last ache of that pseudo-loss fades away to nothingness. </p><p>He nods. “Okay.”</p><p>Buck’s mouth turns up into a sweet smile. Not kissing him right then and there is both agony and relief. Buck lets himself out, leaving Eddie to stare after him, the smell of his cologne lingering in the air.</p><p>No, not yet.</p><p>But soon. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come cry with me @evcndiaz on tumblr &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>